Draw Me Like One Of Your French Girls
by Dajypop
Summary: In all of his years drawing and sketching, Seamus wonders why Dean never drew him. Turns out, he had.


**Title:** Draw Me Like One Of Your French Girls  
><strong>Author:<strong> Daisy  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Harry Potter  
><strong>Setting:<strong> Fifth Year, Gryffindor Boys' Dormitories  
><strong>Pairing:<strong> Dean Thomas/Seamus Finnegan  
><strong>Genre:<strong> Romance/Humor  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Chapters:<strong> 1/1  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 595  
><strong>Type of Work:<strong> One-shot  
><strong>Status:<strong> Complete  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> AU - Canon Divergence, Artistic Nude, Pre-slash  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own anything.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> In all of his years drawing and sketching, Seamus wonders why Dean never drew him. Turns out, he had.

**AN:** So, I'm on a huuuge roll with these Harry Potter stories. They're coming a little slow, but coming nonetheless. Haha, coming. Considering I write so much gay porn. Anyway, this will be a bit porn-esque, but not quite. Hope you guys enjoy!

**Draw Me Like One Of Your French Girls******

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"Oi, Dean?" The lazy drawl came from the bed beside the darker skinned boy, who sat sketching haphazardly in one of his countless books.

"Yeah, Seamus?" He questioned, not bothering to look over at the bedheaded Irishman beside him.

"Ye draw a lot, yeah?" Pointing out the obvious, he finally rolled onto his stomach and turned to look at his best friend.

"Yeah." Came the distracted reply, as the sketching seemed to be getting faster.

"Ye ever draw me?" Intoned the brunet, who seemed intent on watching his friend draw. The pencil stopped moving after a moment, and he turned to look at the other, finally. The look he gave him was something akin to an 'are you kidding?' as he shook his head.

"Of course I've sketched you from time to time." Though perhaps Dean wasn't totally ready to admit to how many pages he'd filled with sketches of the other, how many notebooks held the other's likeness without his knowledge. "Why?"

Rolling languorously in his bed, the sheet barely keeping his modesty, the Irishman bared all to his friend, tipping his face to the side and letting the morning light shine over his lightly freckled face as he closed his eyes.

"Draw me, now." He offered, a sexy lilt to his words as he fluttered open darling brown eyes. Dean was, to say the least, practically petrified watching this unfold. Gulping a little, his cheeks tinted slightly as he nodded a little.

"I-if you wish.." Flipping to a new page, the pencil was suddenly scratching over parchment, the British-born boy glancing up to drink in the sight of his friend who he held a rather strong, overly-fond affection for. He knew this would be fodder for a good dream that night, his huge crush on his somewhat of a manwhore of a best friend was probably only helping this sketch turn into a full-on shaded piece. The lines were drawn with a sort of love and precision he hardly poured into his regular works, and each curve and dip was defined.

Seamus' eyes, though, those were what really drew you in. Those beautiful bedroom eyes nearly leached the soul from their artist, and he gasped softly when he heard a moan from the other's lips. Glancing up, he watched as a hand had slipped down, heading ever south, and that flirtatious expression turned absolutely _rotten_. Dean's mouth hung slightly ajar, and the way his eyes drunk in the sight only made the other continue. That hand began to slide the sheet lower, and suddenly he ripped his eyes away.

"S-seamus…" He whispered softly, shaking his head, "S-stop.."

"But ye don't want me to. I've seen the way ye look at me, Dean. The way ye growl when I come back smelling like someone else." Seamus purred rather happily. "Don't ye want a piece, as well…?"

"I d-don't want to be just another notch in your bedpost, Seamus. I _won't_ just pad your bed. I would never stoop so low." The darker skinned male sighed, prompting the brunette to sit up.

"Then don't be. I'll accept ye as my boyfriend." Though there was an unspoken, _You may have to fight off my other boyfriends,_, Dean seemed please.

"Do you want to see?" Holding out the sketchpad, the thinner suddenly shot out to grab it.

"Woah, this is wicked!" He grinned, happy with the other's art of him.

"You can keep that one, if you want. I'm sure I could do more."

"I'll happily model for you again."

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**AN: **Annnd it's done! Didn't want to get to sex with this one, just not feeling very good. This may be the last thing I write, and it may not be. I'm not sure, yet. My head is throbbing...


End file.
